Well, if I got you anything from India and you did not receive it yet (Dee, Mom, Ezekiel, tutoring kids, Mitali, Anthony, Eden, etc.), you will officially not be receiving it. I got news from the USPS today that there's no hope. I sincerely apologize for the souvenirs, birthday gifts, and baby gifts that you will never receive.
I really wanted to send out the postcards of beautiful places in India to thank my supporters, but also so that you could be reminded of my beautiful land and people. Instead, I guess this memory will have to be triggered by Google Images or the like.
It's odd, really. "I'm not too overly attached to my stuff," I thought. After all, I lived quite happily out of a suitcase (and bazaars) for 3 months.
It's funny how I can look around my room and know exactly what will become garage sale or storage items the month or so before I move to India. My stuff has been kept in boxes at home since before I came to college three and a half years ago--for the "if I ever do have an apartment I need to furnish" possibility. I just don't need the stuff, nor do I care that much about it.
Yet this bag...
The thing is, I miss my India. I miss my friends, my babies, the heat, the beautiful clothes of a femininity that America does not have, the languages, the head bobbling.
I think waiting so long for this package was going to be a sort of Christmas for me: feeling the clothes I haven't worn since Delhi, looking through my hindi notes, slowly reading the story of the ...what is it? magar? (whatever word means alligator!) and the bandar (monkey) and hoping my reading speed was the same as in July. I know it's not the things that matter, but the memories. And the learning. To be honest, I feel a bit defeated after putting so much effort into the contents of my hindi notebook.
So, lesson learned.
With that, I'm just kind of trying to submit to whatever God has planned, and His timing.
As a general update/prayer request: There is a chance this semester that I will not pass one of my courses. Of course, I am trying to make sure that I pass--because passing isn't just about passing anymore. The grades really don't matter to me, but the degree does because with that degree, I can make a bit of money and GO. To my land, to my people, back to my babies.
GOING isn't so much what I want, though.
I had an epiphany of sorts a couple weeks ago: for the first time in my life, I don't have a desire to travel right NOW. Yes, it would be lovely to climb the streets of Prague again, and yes, a jungle safari sounds cool, and yes, if you offered me a free trip to Tokyo, my coat and bags would be ready in about twenty minutes.
But going isn't what I want. BEING there is what I want. Living with my people, where I can learn their language and love them. Where I can be in constant discomfort because I have no fear when it comes to eating spices. Where I can shower with a bucket and a faucet. Where I can dance with babies on a roof at night, or hold them while they are feverish and trembling. Where I can seek guardianship and give a home to those who need one.
If it's not already apparent, I miss my India. My home.
So, I say all this because I don't know what will happen: I don't know how this course will end. That doesn't mean I'm giving up on school in any means if I don't pass, but it does mean that I'll likely be going back to India temporarily--to be with my people, to continue adapting to the culture, and to continue learning hindi--or another language, if that's God's will.
I've crunched the numbers, and it's possible. Maybe not the most practical thing to do with limited funding, but I know God would take care of me. But, again, I don't know what the next semester holds.
So, I ask you to pray with me. Yes, that I pass my class so that when I next go to India, I don't have to come back :) But also that I won't be disheartened if I don't pass. That I will listen to God and do as I'm told. That I will trust in His treasury and not my small bank account. That I will honor Him no matter where I am or whatever my responsibilities. That I will know His plan is best, whatever it holds.
Thanks. --Marla
I really wanted to send out the postcards of beautiful places in India to thank my supporters, but also so that you could be reminded of my beautiful land and people. Instead, I guess this memory will have to be triggered by Google Images or the like.
It's odd, really. "I'm not too overly attached to my stuff," I thought. After all, I lived quite happily out of a suitcase (and bazaars) for 3 months.
It's funny how I can look around my room and know exactly what will become garage sale or storage items the month or so before I move to India. My stuff has been kept in boxes at home since before I came to college three and a half years ago--for the "if I ever do have an apartment I need to furnish" possibility. I just don't need the stuff, nor do I care that much about it.
Yet this bag...
The thing is, I miss my India. I miss my friends, my babies, the heat, the beautiful clothes of a femininity that America does not have, the languages, the head bobbling.
I think waiting so long for this package was going to be a sort of Christmas for me: feeling the clothes I haven't worn since Delhi, looking through my hindi notes, slowly reading the story of the ...what is it? magar? (whatever word means alligator!) and the bandar (monkey) and hoping my reading speed was the same as in July. I know it's not the things that matter, but the memories. And the learning. To be honest, I feel a bit defeated after putting so much effort into the contents of my hindi notebook.
So, lesson learned.
With that, I'm just kind of trying to submit to whatever God has planned, and His timing.
As a general update/prayer request: There is a chance this semester that I will not pass one of my courses. Of course, I am trying to make sure that I pass--because passing isn't just about passing anymore. The grades really don't matter to me, but the degree does because with that degree, I can make a bit of money and GO. To my land, to my people, back to my babies.
GOING isn't so much what I want, though.
I had an epiphany of sorts a couple weeks ago: for the first time in my life, I don't have a desire to travel right NOW. Yes, it would be lovely to climb the streets of Prague again, and yes, a jungle safari sounds cool, and yes, if you offered me a free trip to Tokyo, my coat and bags would be ready in about twenty minutes.
But going isn't what I want. BEING there is what I want. Living with my people, where I can learn their language and love them. Where I can be in constant discomfort because I have no fear when it comes to eating spices. Where I can shower with a bucket and a faucet. Where I can dance with babies on a roof at night, or hold them while they are feverish and trembling. Where I can seek guardianship and give a home to those who need one.
If it's not already apparent, I miss my India. My home.
So, I say all this because I don't know what will happen: I don't know how this course will end. That doesn't mean I'm giving up on school in any means if I don't pass, but it does mean that I'll likely be going back to India temporarily--to be with my people, to continue adapting to the culture, and to continue learning hindi--or another language, if that's God's will.
I've crunched the numbers, and it's possible. Maybe not the most practical thing to do with limited funding, but I know God would take care of me. But, again, I don't know what the next semester holds.
So, I ask you to pray with me. Yes, that I pass my class so that when I next go to India, I don't have to come back :) But also that I won't be disheartened if I don't pass. That I will listen to God and do as I'm told. That I will trust in His treasury and not my small bank account. That I will honor Him no matter where I am or whatever my responsibilities. That I will know His plan is best, whatever it holds.
Thanks. --Marla
